Hidden
by Pine-Apple 01
Summary: Takeru, an up-and-coming Japanese stockmarket trade, gets interviewed by Tokyo's leading journalist, Taichi Yagami. The Twist? A chance encounter in New York with The lead singer of a world renown band.
1. Chapter One

The blinds hid the dreary New York Sky line. Light seemed to seep slowly through the cracks, as though it was water, and the effect seemed to mellow out the sharp hotel décor. Oh sure, the room was spacious enough- it being a suit and at Waldorf, it had more class then the luncheonettes he was constantly going to.

But still, Yamato still couldn't help but feel as though something was missing, something, something _irreplaceable_. But what could it be? He had everything. He had the money, the popularity, the looks, and the band. He had homes all over the world, he had had the girlfriends, and secretly the boyfriends. Yamato didn't care about himself being gay, hell, he'd come out at their next show, however, the managers were afraid of record decline. And what his managers said, goes. 

Maybe that was it, the fact that he had no control over his actions, he was not himself, and he was what they wanted him to be. _No, _he shook his head, _that's not it either, what the hell is wrong with me! for Fucks sake! _He savagely ripped the blinds from the window, yanking it open, and holding his head out, feeling the slight breeze of New York air. It was odd, New York air, You would believe it smoggy and crummy, but in reality, it was a crisp chilling that made you open you eyes, clear you head and focus. He gulped it down.

Finally after his head had begun to numb, he pulled himself back in and shook his blue blood back into his mind. He glanced around the straightened room, _clock, dresser, television, bathroom, couch, and radio…? _The radio, he hadn't heard it since their slam into mainstream. Maybe he could just listen for a little smudge of time. He rose from the bed again, hand dangled just over reaching for the remote, when…

__

Knock Knock Knock 

"Ishida! You packed? Move your sorry ass! We've got Seattle to make in an day!" Yamato grumbled and retreated to the door, where he forcefully slammed it open, glaring at the assistant manager.

"Yes Hamabe can I fucking help you!?" Ice eyes narrowed into slits.

"H-Hiroke! He s-sent me to tell you t-that WERE LEAVING!" the assistant manager let put a tremendous wail and left running down the corridor. Yamato smirked, and ran a hand through his hair, looking around the impeccably clean room. Nothing, no stains, close or anything broken in anyway-you wouldn't have thought a rock star lives there, you would have believed some anal-government official was the occupier. Yamato didn't see the true point of pulling clothing out from his bag and putting it away like the other band members-its was quiet stupid really. They always left two or three days latter, what is the point of packing?

Knocking at his door, and the rough voice of his body guard made him grab his duffel and head down the stairs.

-

The Seattle streets were cold- horridly cold, colder then usual for a winter weathers, and bleak. A news stand stood open among the throngs of gated businesses. He jogged across the quiet street, in clear white letters, with the 'O' blinking, it read "OPEN" . A kind-old Japanese woman stood at the counter. 

"Konnichiwa." He said with a bow of his head.

The woman gave him a funny look, but he forgot it, and zoomed into the magazine section. He passed by all the trash-y American shit "World news:" screamed that "Bat-boy was lost again!", while "Newsy:" said the "…original bearded woman went back to 6bc!". He passed those by, and grabbed the usual. Rolling stones, Seattle weekly, Spin, and Blender, were normal for what everyone thought, however, in-between there was a stray "Business week In review". 

In Truth, Matt wouldn't have cared about the economy, here there or anywhere in-between, Except that his bother was working his way up the Japan-America Trade. And so while he was on the road, and therefore incapable of actually meeting his brother, friends, or family, he did what he could to keep up with there lives. God knew he didn't need to send them letters to keep up with his life. 

He made his way towards the counter and pushed the merchandise towards the lady, "Ohayo" he said smiling slightly. The lady stared at him blankly before replying with a Californian accent, "What? $14.72." Yamato handed over the money, feeling slightly depressed that the Japanese woman didn't eve speak her own tongue.

He walked the fourteen blocks back to the hotel. 

They played their Seattle concert the next night, crowd blaring and everything. 

-

Taichi Yagami entered the drip-gray sky scraper at precisely nine-five am, and swiped his security card at nine-seven. He entered the old ground floor elevator at nine-twelve, and was at his boss' office by nine-fifteen. 

"Tai! Your story for now is an interview, here's the package!" The beefy man ordered, Tai exited quickly and walked the impossibly long aisle of white-block offices. Finding his in the corner by the window, he sat down. Jokushi had just popped his head into the cubical when Tai began to run his fingers over the manila seal.

"Coffee?" he said hopefully, shaking the Starbucks coffee in his face.

"Lay it down." Taichi said distractedly, Jokushi left right after. He watched the steam poor off it before he began breaking the seal on his latest job case. A single piece of paper fell out and on to the floor.

__

Tokyo Weekly

****

Assignment- Interview Ishida Takeru. Your flight will leave at seven tonight, from TIA, You are flying to the USA, Chicago to be exact. He will be giving a speech and a business proposal, along with numerous other issues. Your trip is one week, it will end on next Friday, and your weekend stay is negotiable. You will be following him around, and getting exact details. Recording studios, television interviews, what ever he does, you do to. Hes traveling around the Us, Friday he will be in New York for his last stop.

****

Story deadline-Monday you get back. FIND OUT ANYTHING YOU CAN. PERSONAL LIFE. HIS BROTHERS CAREER, ANYTHING! 

Tai let the paper flitter on to his desk and signed. He picked up his coffee to drink, only to find out that it was stale and cold. He swallowed it anyway.

"…_and your weekend stay is negotiable_" he mumble off his tongue. Well, he did need a nice break; And Chicago might be nice. A weekend trip could do. He didn't even have to go or do anything, just soak in the tub all day, turn into a prune. Another plus would be seeing TK again. 

Something was unsettling about this assignment. He knew exactly what it was, who it always was, "…_HIS BROTHERS CAREER_" was what shot out at him, this wasn't about the rising star, it was about the star. Tai glared though his paper white walls at the door of his boss' office. He gathered the things he would need for his work and set off for home. 

-

The plane ride was fine, first class as usual. Flight assistants persistent and attractive. No nosy child running, crying or beating your seat. Tai even managed to swaddle his favorite position, the window seat. The landing was soft, And airport was only slightly crowded. Everything was just peachy.

His hotel was up to standards, the bed large enough for fifty, and the food was fantastic to say the least, and it was high tech enough for even a kings standards. Taichi fell asleep that night instantaneously.

****

Authors Note: This is a mix of chapter 1, & 2. It doesn't have the significant changes as the next ones will. Next update is Wednesday, or Thursday.


	2. Chapter Two

When dawn rays awoke on him, and the soft knocking grew impatient, He drifted towards the door, glaring down and the short plump door man quivering at him that he was requested down stairs in half an hour. Tai's eyes widened, he threw himself in the shower, dressed grabbed his laptop and ran towards the hotel foyer. The door man hailed a black cab for him, and he set off down the crowded Chicago streets.

-

Takeru Ishida sat in a small coffee shop on the out skirts of Chicago, and sipped his perfectly creamy, perfectly sweet, green tea. He knew that the reporter was late, but he didn't mind, it just gave him more time to relax, and plan out what exactly he would say. 

__

Here from Tokyo He noted in his head. _At least I'll have someone to talk to. _When the coffee shop door swung open with a sad crick, and quickly place footsteps headed his way, Takeru knew that "The Reporter" was here. He turned and beckoned the reporter over.

"Hey Tai, its nice seeing you again." He began pleasantly.

"Been too long Tk, to long. How's your family?" 

"Father and mother are fine, Matt is, well, _who doesn't know what Matt is doing?," _He added with a tinge of bitter resentment.

"…But anyway, how is Kari-chan?" He smiled sweetly again regaining the calm appearance. 

"Excellent, her photography is coming along exquisitely. She's working her way up the photo journalism latter at TW. People seem to just _adore, _and_ love_ her." He smirked slightly at the last comment. 

They began to lapse into silence as TK sipped his cold green tea.

"So, what are we doing today, _Mr. Up-and-coming-high-paid-business-man?_"

"Well. Today's a quiet day. It is mostly meeting that start at twelve, it should be over by uh, say, six?" Tai choked, a six hour meeting? How that fuck did Takeru survive all this shit. 

"Tai? You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Hey lets order some food and then head over to the meeting alright?"

"Sure, sure whatever you say…"

The lunch was average, noting special. The car ride back was bumpy, and pot-hole filled. Rain had occurred somewhere, and was now pouring down on them in figurative buckets. Thunder began making its call in the west, and the car slipped and slid without much resistance to the water. Nothing was said in-between the car ride and there arrival. As Takeru pushed open the silver platted doors, and stepped into the lavishly antiquity covered foyer, he warned Tai not to say a word, and just sit the corner. Ask him about the meeting when it was over, or whatever other shit the reporter wanted to know. 

They enter the blandly decorated room, Takeru taking his place at the end of the table, left side Taichi took his place sitting in a hard back chair near the door. The rain still hit the windows giving off an annoying, pitter, pattering noise. The old, sage looking men waddled into the room together and sat their respective seats, all giving Taichi the evil eye. And so the meeting began.

-

__

"…You don't know me,

I don't know you.

You follow me around, hoping for a clue

But all I can say

Is GET THE FUCK AWAY"

He threw his head back on the last chord, and ripped with a sudden anger at the applause, he threw his band stand and microphone into the drum set, sending the drummer flying. His guitar was still attached and he broke that off his back, and threw it violently at the cinematographer, who only ducked in time, as the camera shattered like glass. He turned heel first, and stomped into the back stage, growling. He slumped into a pile near the backdoor and began to properly beat his head against the door. Sitting in the shadows he could see his tour manager looking around for him frantically. The show wasn't technically over yet, but he couldn't go on anymore. For tonight, the show was over. He slipped quietly out the back door, and walked solemnly down the dark alleyway into the Detroit street way. 

A game of kick the can began as he marched down the street way. Lost in thoughts, he turned into a nearly empty diner and sat the counter. A Middle age woman sauntered up to him and asked him for his order.

"Macaroni and cheese. With a sprite." He put his hands in his hair again and threaded them through. Pulling slightly at the roots. A small TV showed the ten o'clock news.

When his food arrived Matt devoured the cheese goodness. His eyes flickered over towards the Television. 

__

"…and so this is the first violent outrage from the lead singer of Not Another Band. Band members were apparently stunned as the leader began to slam and smash his equipment with the show only half way though. His manager is declining comment, and only saying that Ishida '… is just tired and over worked.' So far none of the remaining tour dates have been canceled. Their last tour-date is scheduled for a New York appearance, this Friday. And now to John with the weath-…" Matt turned her out and took a swig from his drink. The bustrious woman appeared again asking him is he needed anything. He kept his head down and asked for the check, making his way towards the counter to pay properly.

"Such a shame…" the old woman began

"What?" he snapped suddenly.

"The Ishida boy, such talent such beauty. Its _so _obvious he needs someone! That poor poor boy, so young too…$7.68, please. Thank you" he handed over his Visa card, 'Yamato Ishida' clearly written on the front, but the woman never gave the card a second look, and only slid it through the machine.

"Here you go deary, have a nice night." She smiled at him, and he mumble a short "you too" and walked out the door.

--

[_Flashback- 1 ½ years earlier_]

The American tour had just begun and he was back in New York, it hadn't changed. Not that he had expected the city to move, or evolve in a matter of days, but still, It was a refreshing internal differ. Yamato paused on the corner long enough to pull the hoddie over his head tighter and walk through the sea of people. _Tourist _he thought bitterly. He was near Rockefeller square, near St. Patrick, and with the doors open, he could hear the ushers yelling at people that no photos were allowed during Mass. He pondered how on earth the people of NYC could condense and live under a microscope of Tourist pretending to be scientist, examining, copying, and decimating their lives. _He _could never do it. _He_ would never do it. _He _would snap,however, there was a strong possibly that he was already snapping.

The tree was lit, and the flags flew glamorously in the wind, sparking the façade of American life. Every Ice skater skated beautifully alone. He wasn't far now from the Barnes and Noble that was about four blocks from Grand Central. He didn't truly have a purpose of going there, he had never actually been, but he found that if the coffee shops were open, they would have a little band music sometimes. 

They weren't revolving doors, possibly the only in NYC. He wandered through the store, if your could call it that. Seeing various wish-list books. Yes, it was true, Yamato Ishida, lead singer of the grunge-rock band NAB, loved reading, poetry, and solute. All the books were wrapped, mostly soft-covered. Yamato had been wondering the upper and lower floor for an hour now, until he came upon the leather bound journal set. His eyes glazed over looking at it. It was in a Christmas-type box, With a brown leather journal, and black-tipped pen. It was similar to the old one he had had since he started High School. Only, his was cheaper, and had multiple more sentimental values. The first thought was what made him buy it.

[E_nd _F_lashback-Back to the present_]

-

Snowflakes had begun to flitter down fifth-avenue, and Taichi was walking slowly behind Takeru, on the gray streets of New York. As it was only about six-forty-five, only the truly New York at heart walked. His story was coming along slowly for once. He couldn't even resort to making something up, he had to face it, and this would be the most boring story he ever did. Which, in turn would hurt his ability credibility on making something dull, and turn it as interesting as breaking news—that's why he was Tokyo's most prestigious author, His ability to glorify the simplest things. 

They were on their way down to Rockefeller square, for the Morning show studios. Armed only with a Starbucks and a laptop, he was ready for the long wait. 

He felt like a child back in Odiba as he constantly blew away the quickly accumulating snow from his face. 

-

They were walking through the hallways now, tour guides just ahead, and as they turned and went through the doors to the green room, Takeru's cell phone broke the ebbing silence, and he gestured for the guide to show him out again. Taichi, tired of walking, sat down in a fluffy chair, and promptly dozed off.

Rudely awakened a-half-an-hour later by Takeru's grim face, Taichi was felling dread.

"What's wrong?" he asked fearing the answer.

"God_-damn,_ Chicagoist investors fearing for their fucking money, think that the companies not fucking good enough. I've got to fly back now to reassure them, or else I'll lost there trading. Fuck, Taichi, you can do whatever you want today, I'll be back tomorrow morning, tell the people I'm sorry 'bout this. Godda-go, Ja " Takeru left the room in a swivel of a cloak, leaving Taichi momentary impaired. As one door closed, a moment latter, another opened. 

"Yagami? Where's Takeru?!" A young blond demanded.

"He left, Business emergency. Says he's sorry. Well, uh, bye now." Taichi reached for the door, but was dragged back to his seat by the blond.

"Oh-no, you're going to fill his spot. You're a writer or columnist or some shit right?" A nod confirmed the blondes.

"Great, off to make-up with you!" she patted his bottom through the door way and directed him, with a wink to a door. The Make-up lady tuned out to be a 40-something woman with to much eye-shadow and cover-up. But she was a jolly woman all the same. He hardly noticed the difference between when he went in, and when he went out. 

The set was just as he thought, it was similar to the same ones in Tokyo. Same type of people, actors and crew on opposite sides of the world. Donuts and coffee lined a wall on the far right. Burley men conversed in a corner, and the annoying woman who had bothered him earlier was chatting away to some other blond on the other side of the room, the blond didn't seem to care too much, and was looking for an escape. His thoughts of the blond were dragged away when he was dragged away to the side door, ready to make his dramatic conference. 

"Ok, listen for the clapping, wait a second and **then **go, got it? …Oh god, what the hell is she doing now, fucking hell, JORDAN!" the girl-blond in the corner looked up and frowned, the boy-blond began sneaking back into the greenroom. 

He fell out of place the people watching when his name was called the American way and the applause started, he marched out, a man and a woman smiled brightly. He walked out and sat in a stiff back chair.

"So, Tiachi, what exactly do you do?" The man asked.

"Well, I'm a writer, in all essence, for the world. I do columns and sell them privately to magazines across the world."

"Wow, you rich then?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty well off." Tai laughed, the man was quiet personable.

"So, tell me, Have you got a girlfriend?" The woman giggled at him, eyes fluttering.

"Uh, right now I'm not seeing anyone…" he said hesitant, he didn't think much of announcing on national Television that he was gay. The woman continued her muffled giggles.

"So, what do you think of America?"

"Its nice, the people seem nice, at least. I have never really been here, here, on vacation only on business. Right now I'm on business."

"Oh! What are you doing?"

"Uh, I'm doing a story about an old friend from Japan right now. Sorry, that all I can really give away currently…" 

"What's your favorite aspect of your job."

"Travel, I love traveling, this summer I stayed in Beirut with friends, it was a culture-Emerson thing"

"Have you tried Starbucks yet?" 

"EH? Oh yes, we have that in Tokyo." Taichi smiled slightly as the director swung his arms in a fashion that says "Cut!"

"Well that's all we have time for today. Tiashi, it's a pleasure meeting you. ON tomorrows show…" Taichi drained him out as he made his way thought the room and back into the green room. His laptop and coat still by their place on the coffee table. He could see throughout the window that the snow was coming down harder now. Cold radiated from the pains, and Jack Frost had put his touch on them, decorating them in icy beauty. He adjusted his coat, gapped his laptop and made for the door. AS he turned to face the exit, a hand gabbed his arm and turned him about face. Rough hands shook him, deep blue eyes search his, and a click of recognition in both of them, a smirking smile, and a familiar face.

Authors Note: I hope this came out Ok, it's changing slowly. But the next chapter has nothing recognizable in it, not really anyway. 


	3. Chapter Three

Hidden

Chapter III

Taichi sat at the rocked table, in the mismatched chair and sipped the tea from an old and worn cup. Yamato sat across from him, neither spoke. Tension ran high through the room, and noises from out side drifted through the make-shift. Taichi felt the questions bubbling up inside him, He wanted to know what had happened what had changed, who what where, why, his mind swelled and stirred in questions, adding new to the stew, finally brining it to a boil. He calmly placed his chipped cup down and asked a simple question.

"Why?" Taichi's eyes fixed into the swirling mass of tea, milk, and sugar. 

"Why what?" Yamato replied just as calmly. 

"Why you left." Yamato looks at Taichi, he knew the question was coming, he knew it was a legitimate question, that deserved and needed a legitimate answer.

"There were, complications." He said sipping from the tea.

"Like what?" Taichi asked darting eyes up at him.

"Family issues, Mother wanted me to live with her for the rest of my High-school years, 'cept I didn't want to. I didn't want anything to do with her. I think Takeru wouldn't have turned out half as power-hungry as he is know if she hadn't raised him that way."

"Was that it?"

"No. School was getting harder. The goddamn mother fucking 'cliques' was harping me, consistently. About being gay, about how I looked, acted, that shit. I couldn't take it much longer. Money with dad was getting short, I was going to drop out either way. To get a job or if I left. It wouldn't have mattered. With that thought in my head, I stopped trying and stopped caring. I eventually did just quit all together." He was glaring at the cup of tea.

"There is something else, Yama, I know there is. Was it me? Did I do something to fucking scare you off?" Tai sighed internally, his eyes became hard dirt as he looked at Yamato waiting a reply.

"No. You were one of the only things that was my solitude my escape. You were the only stability in my life. I could count on you and you alone." Yama smiled a small grin and Taichi's eyes refocused somewhat back into a chocolate haze.

They looked at each other for a while, before Yama picked up his glass and Taichi's and made for the kitchen. He turned the tap on, and waited for the water to drain through the pipes. He rinsed the cups in the water, and placed them on the rack to dry. He walked back into the room, and saw Taichi sitting at the same place. 

"I kept the letter." Tai said suddenly. Eyes not focussed, head slightly bent.

"I've kept it safe, kept every promise. I took care of everything. What happened to you after you left? Why didn't I notice your change Yama? Why? I was fucking in love with you can I couldn't see anything. God-fucking-damn it. Don't tell me it's not your fault. If I had seen beyond my own needs and wants, then everything would be different. Everything."

"Yeah, every fucking thing would be different, but would it be better then it is now? Would my life, your life, or anyone else's life be any better? I took this into consideration. I took everything into consideration. Your happiness and Mine. Taichi, you were the best friend I have ever had, you're the best thing that's ever fucking happened to me. I did leave because of you, I left cause I could never make you happy. How could I when I couldn't make myself happy?" Yama leaned against the wall, and let his frustration escape.

"Taichi, the relationship wouldn't have stood the test of time anyway. In a year you would have gone off to collage, and I'd be working at a Denny's, or something. It wouldn't have worked. And if we had gotten a contract deal, then I would be away ten months of the year, touring, promotion, and creation. Could you have taken it Tai-chan? Could you have understood?"

"Where did you go, Yama? What did you do for food, shelter and money?" 

"I…slept where I could, under bridges, on couches, it didn't matter at that point. I did work at a Denny's for some time. And I used the money for food and necessities. The band rehearsed, we got better and played gigs, we got scouted, and were signed. That's it, there isn't anything else I've done that you don't know about." Yama opened his eyes and looked over at Taichi,

"So what have you been doing?" he asked nonchalantly. 

"Keeping my mind off you, It's because of you that I'm a writer you know. I use to sit in the dark for weeks after you gone, I'd imagine fifty thousand different outcomes if you hadn't left. They got so outrageous that I'd incorporate them into my Japanese essays, the teacher recommended me for a creative writing course, and so I eventually went to school for it, and was accepted at TW." A question hung loosely in the air, open that Yama was dying to ask Taichi.

"Has there been anyone else besides me?" He asked hopefully. 

"No. No one could compare to you. No one came close." Their eyes locked for a second, and a complete understanding was met by both. Everything was the same again. Taichi felt as though he had slipped back in time, back to being a high school-er, and watching Yama cooking dinner for him. Taichi grinned that stupid sloppy grin of his, and Yama's heart sped up at the thought's it created. 

"Hey Tai, theirs this show were playing tomorrow night, its are last show in the tour. I was wondering if you wanted to come?" He asked hopefully. Another familiar line form memory lane. 

"God Yamato, didn't you ever get any better at asking me to go? You have said that to me at every show I've ever been to, with you." 

"So, you'll go?" he asked

"Yeah, I'll go with you, and I'll prevent you from getting over drunk or overly stoned, once again!" Taichi laughed and Yama was hardly surprised at all to find out that he was still in love with him, 

"Taichi you idiot!" Matt rolled his eyes and smacked Tai's arm, before going to make dinner.

-

After dinner, Taichi said he'd better be getting back to his hotel, his boss had probably called him twenty times already. Yama walked him to the door and Taichi gave Yama a quick peck on the lips before turning and getting into the elevator. 

"Remember Tai, Six tomorrow!" Yama called as the door closed. 

Author note- How's that for a difference?


	4. Chapter Four

It was a small secluded club, a coffee house thing, not the type of concert area that you'd expect of rock stars. But strangely, Taichi found himself struggling through an area of nostalgia, and despair. 

As he settled into his seat he felt as though he had fallen back in time once again-to the high school Friday nights of sitting at a local bars, cheering Matt, and the band on as they struggled through critics and groupies. The curtain was closed, but Taichi knew what was going on behind it, the roadie was setting up the drummers equipment, technicians making silent calls through the headsets, testing sound levels, and such. And then there was Yamato, who was sitting on the edge of the stage, watching it all happen through large eyes, thinking about some despairing topic. Falling himself into some haze like stupor…

Taichi shook his head, he couldn't worry to too much about anything now. He needed to enjoy himself with Yamato for as long as he could. 

Lights dimmed, and eventually turned to black, the curtain rose, and a single guitar stung was hit. 

-

"_I can scream all I want,_

I can say all I want.

But the truth is,

This world don't care,

Cause you're my world.

Yeah yeah yeah yeah, 

You're my world."

The drums stopped, the bass struck its last note, and Yamato's guitar stung its last chord as his voice faded. There was silence for a millisecond; then the small selective crowd exploded with applause. 

Yamato's blue eyes searched throughout the sea of people, looking for Taichi, but he couldn't see him. He was then dragged off stage, and into his dressing room, where, the band had gathered for drinks and congratulations. 

He smiled faintly, happy at such a successful tour. Disappointed that Taichi hadn't met him yet.

-

Taichi took a drag of his cigarette and stared around at the hotel. Everything was packed and ready to go. His flight was in an hour and Yamato's letter had been delivered to his apartment. Taichi smiled faintly at their doomed relationship.

__

[flashback]

Taichi was on a high. He'd gotten back from Yamato's all but dancing around the room. So now, an hour latter he was laying in bed with a pillow propped up under his head. It was times like these that Taichi thought of the future. His thoughts turned sour here. 

'shit. I get shipped around the world at a day notice. He tours 10 months of the year. How the fuck is this suppose to work? Fuck fuck fuck. I should have thought this threw, I can't leave now…that's just cowardly. But, I can't stay. It won't work out…It never works out.

By the end of the night, Taichi had a plan. He'd go to the concert, Mail a letter to Yamato telling him the details of his leaving etc. He'd hop a plane and be back to Tokyo before Yamato finished the letter. It was fool-proof.

__

[end flashback] 

-

Yamato sifted through his mail, eyes gazing over the bills and single letter. Addressed simply "_Yama Toi._" And alias he'd used to buy the apartment. Slitting it open, he sat down in an old comfy chair. He propped his feet up and began to read.

'_Yama,_

I'm sorry. I don't know how many times I could ever say it and you could ever forgive me. I don't know how sorry I am, I guess sorry enough to leave. 

Before you advance anymore, I want you to know that I love you, Yamato. I'm in love with you Yamato. I'm sorry.

I'm leaving because I love you. I'm leaving because It wouldn't work. I'm leaving because I'm a twit and never took you or your love into consideration. I'm leaving because, I'm leaving because I have no other reason.

I'll miss you, now and forever. By the time you read…

The letter continued, but Yamato was out the door before he could finish.

Authors Note: This is a one part update. I'll probably post the second Part on Wednesday since right now I'm just going over it and putting pretty gloss on it. So… this part was reworked t fit with the ending. And I guess its only a page holder right now. 

Wow, its almost a year since I wrote this out first. That's kinda scary…


	5. Chapter Five

Taichi read the line and sat down with a sigh. Half of him wanted to run back to Yamato, damn the consequences. But the other half, the rational side, told him that it wouldn't work. It would end in heartbreak. He didn't want to put Yamato through that. 

So he sat. Yamato couldn't get to him, he was in the waiting gate, and non-passengers couldn't get past that. Yamato, even if he did get the letter, wouldn't never say goodbye.

-

Yamato was rushing, he was shoving his way out of the taxi cab, and throwing a fiver back at the cabby. He slammed the door and ran through the open doors of Kennedy Airport. Yamato ran towards the first flight television he could find. 

His breathing faltered.

It was the first plane to leave. Infact, it already left. He was gone.. Taichi was gone… Tokyo Air was whisking his koi away… He could do nothing… 

He let out a staggered scream of frustration and stuttered in breathing… again, it was happening again… but this time, he wasn't in control. No Control No Control Nothing… oh god oh kami, he had to breath, in out in out…

-

Taichi looked up sharply from the magazine he was reading. Someone had screamed, no someone had wailed, and LORD that was loudly. It had some from his left so he swung his head left and peered through the room, looking way frown the hallway to see a blond… No, to see Yama scream. 

This was his chance, this was Taichi's chance to run back to him, consequences be damned, this was his way… But no, instead he hid his face behind Spin Magazine and looked away. He was off to Chicago to catch up with Takeru. 

He couldn't look back, he couldn't stand to see Yamato suffering, and he couldn't stand to know that he was causing it and he couldn't stand that he couldn't help him…and… he couldn't stand that he loved him anymore. 

-

Takeru was mildly surprised to find Taichi on his door step, but shocked to find the tears viable underneath the cloak he wore. 

"Tai? Mate? Whats wrong?"

Taichi stood trembling a few more seconds before his trembling effected his knees and he gave up, threw his arms around Takeru and started to sob.

"oh-my-god." He ground out.

"shhh…"

"I-I just fuc-ucked up my life…"

"C'mon, its not that bad now…" Takeru led Taichi to the bed and set him down, turning to close the door behind them. Immediately Taichi curled up into a little ball and sobbed. 

"I-Yama-we-oh god," he closed his eyes tightly and shuddered.

"You saw Matt?"

"ohmygod… I Takeru I cant breath…"

"C'mon Taichi its not that bad,"

"Takeru, he and I were together again and we were going to work things out further but I left, I ran, I cant face him…"

"Matt's going to understand…"

"No, he's mad, he's annoyed, he hates me…"

"No, he can't hate you. He could never hate you. He loves yah Taichi. That he does, he told me so himself(1)."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no…"

-

Yamato was smashed. He knew it, the bartended knew it, and every guy within a five foot radius knew it. But the drinks kept coming.

And he kept drinking them, one after another. He'd already polished $124 worth of booze, lets see if we can hit the $200 mark. Finally the bouncer pulled him from his chair and threw him out on to the street.

"Aww, Yock Fuus!" he squinted at his blurred vision and feel backwards, crashing downward onto the pavement. The bouncer sighed and called 9-1-1 on his cell phone. 

-

Taichi was wrapped up in Takeru's comforter, he flipped through the channels and settled on the news.

"_…Damnation Records had no comment today about the lead singer of NAB's purge into alcohol. However a press conference is taking place right now and here we go, cutting to the 9th meeting room…"_

People gathered around a long table. Name tags set in front of each one of them. Taichi's eyes immediately filled with tears as he saw Yamato's recluse sight. His hair was limp and greasy, his porcelain skin was unkempt. He looked like shit. 

People talked and Yamato ignored them, he more or less set his head against the crook of his arm and rested. He hated these things, he always kept silent. And finally it came.

"...NAB would like to publicly and officially announce its break up. It was a unanimous decision made by the lead singer when he began to believe that the band had lost its mission statement.".

Taichi shut the television off and curled under the blankets again. Crying soundlessly.

**Authors Note:** Yeah, of course I meant two weeks later Wednesday… DU-UH. Anyway, I know this chapter is screaming "pity-ME!" but it'll get better. I swear!


End file.
